My Soul's on Fire
by Katie Havok
Summary: Her new husband is looking at her curiously and a little hungrily as she reflects, and Tina isn't sure what to do next. Newt senses this, or perhaps reads the doubts on her face, because cherished hands reach out to tug the flowers from her hair. He plucks out her hairpins and Tina sighs as gentle fingers rub her scalp, soothing the ache there.


Warning: _**smut!** _This was originally published on January 21st, 2017 on Ao3 and is being uploaded here for the sake of my ego.

* * *

They wed in November under an unseasonably blue sky.

Tina wears a dress of pearly white, Newt a suit of peacock blue. His tie is straight for a change, though his smile is as boyishly crooked as ever. Madam Picquery performs the ceremony, and after the vows are spoken, they kiss boldly and without shame. She announces them when they part, and their smattering of guests cheer and applaud.

Newt and Tina eat their meal and enjoy their cake and perform the customary dance. They refuse to dance with anyone but their life-partner, dominating the floor as ever-changing couples swirl around them. They sway together, lost in each other's eyes, and their guests speculate in whispers how long it will take for them to decide to leave. Not long, as it turns out.

Tina shares a smile with him when she takes his hand, and he returns the gesture without misgiving. "We've been patient, haven't we?" she asks, and his eyes widen as he nods. She watches his throat work when he gulps, eyebrows quirking. Tina grins unabashedly. "I'm tired of being patient. Can we leave?"

Newt steps far enough away to take in the entirety of her, eyes soft and appreciative. "Eager, are we?" he murmurs, but that's as far as he teases. He kisses her once, a quick peck, then turns to catch Graves' attention. He makes a swooping gesture with his hand before drawing her close. "Far be it for _me_ to keep my wife waiting on her wedding night," he says against her neck and wraps his arms around her.

Newt Apparates them away with a flick of his wand.

* * *

The hotel room is a gift from the entirety of MACUSA, and Picquery has given her the Thanksgiving weekend off so they can enjoy it. There's no time for honeymoons, not with war looming on the horizon. Tina is shyly appreciative of this gesture, though she is also doubtful about what it all means. She knows what the pinnacle of a wedding night entails, and she knows that she and Newt have taken things quite far previously. However, the penultimate act is new to her, and she can't entirely control her nerves.

(She informs him of her virgin status after a heavy session of touching one night, when she was left feeling strangely _hollow_. She had felt the proof of his arousal against her thigh while his hands were busy well below her waist, making her strain, making her _love_ him. He had made no indications of wanting to take it any further but she blurts her secret anyway and feels absurd when he freezes and snaps his head up to look at her. She isn't sure what to expect, but he kisses her gently and reassures her that he is more than willing to wait, entirely comfortable with letting her set the pace of their tentative new physicality.

Calmed and somehow fortified, she allows him to take her pleasure to new heights, clever fingers working her into a frenzy before she reciprocates through his clothes. The day comes when they reach a level of comfort and clothes are removed, touch becoming even more heated. Every time they edge into that dangerous territory though, he steers them away, assuring her that their wedding night will be sufficient time for that final step.)

Her new husband is looking at her curiously and a little hungrily as she reflects, and Tina isn't sure what to do next. Newt senses this, or perhaps reads the doubts on her face because cherished hands reach out to tug the flowers from her hair. He plucks out her hairpins and Tina sighs as gentle fingers rub her scalp, soothing the ache there. Newt kisses her forehead before stepping away, removing his own tie and jacket and waistcoat, lowering his braces and bending to shed his spats and boots. He tugs her slippers off while he's down there, and takes a moment to kiss the arch of each foot before standing.

He trails his hand along a satin-clad shoulder while leaning in to kiss her without demand. He makes an approving noise when she deepens the kiss, and another when her tongue runs along his bottom lip before sucking it. Encouraged, he finds the tiny row of buttons down the back of her dress and starts to unfasten them. There aren't many, and soon her gown is loosened and his mouth is on her neck, sucking and nibbling and stealing her breath.

Newt's steady hands push her dress down, his mouth following to trail over her corselet. Tina steps out of the garment when it falls, and has no time to feel nervous as she unbuttons and peels his shirt off his shoulders. Once bared, he bends and his teeth find a nipple through the bodice of her camisole, causing her to swallow a whine. He moves lower to nip at her garters and the tops of her stockings before disconnecting and rolling them down her leg. He loosens the strings of her corselet and she sighs when he slips it off, taking her garters along with it.

Tina stands before him in only her filmy camisole, allowing his soft eyes to take her in. This isn't her first time baring herself for him, but there is still a new tension between them, something warm and languid. He moves closer and kisses the strap on her shoulder, humming softly. Tina tips her head back, granting him access to her throat. He skims his mouth over her neck and collarbone and moves up to kiss her deeply.

Pulling away, Newt kneels before her and presses his face into the soft material over her belly, sighing into the satin. He pecks the skin below her navel and wraps his arms around her hips while breathing deeply. She feels moisture where his face presses and realizes it isn't coming from her. With tender hands, she runs her fingers through his hair, allowing him to calm before they go any further.

"My _wife_ ," he sighs, and the adoration in his voice sinks into her skin, warming her to the roots of her hair. She squeezes his shoulder in silent understanding, and he takes the time to compose himself before he pressing a wet kiss to her hip and rising. She can taste salt when he kisses her, but the contact is heated compared to the tentative ones they shared previously, and his breathing has roughened.

They are comfortable in their respective physicality, but Tina takes the initiative when he falters and pushes him back until his knees collide with the bed. She urges him to sit before straddling him, pulling her slip over her waist so her bare skin rubs against his trousers. He exhales sharply and traces her inner thigh as he watches her face. Once she has nodded to grant her permission, he pulls her slip over her head and eagerly takes one small nipple into his mouth, groaning against the sensitive peak.

Tina hisses and wraps her arms around his head, pulling him flush against her. He releases her with an audible pop and bends to lave her other breast, capturing her stiff teat between his teeth and tugging as he soothes it with his tongue. Tina quivers and voices a moan, urging him on with her fingers tangled in his hair. She leans back and Newt follows her with his mouth, nipping at tender flesh. He releases her to pull her close and his kiss is all heat and desire when he finds her lips.

Tina uses her greater vantage to push his shoulders back, breaking their heated contact. When he's flat on his back, she shimmies down to work the buttons of his trousers. He's eager to divest himself and lifts his hips so she can remove his trousers and underwear together. Then she's face-to-face with that elemental part of him, as freckled as the rest of him and nestled in a bed of wiry hair, and she remembers where tonight is supposed to go. Her bravado wilts.

In their previous encounters, Tina's felt this part of him rubbing against her, and has enjoyed it. She's used her hands to great effect, rendering him pliant in her arms and begging for release. She's washed away the pearly fluid it produces as he recovers, and watched him sleep once her ministrations were through. This is different though, because she'll experience an entirely new facet of _it_ , and him—a sharing of pleasure. Tina isn't sure she can reconcile this new paradigm.

"Hey," he interrupts her reverie, a hand beneath her chin to raise her eyes. "It's all right, Tina. We'll go as fast or as slow as you require." Tina looks down at him, a tense expanse of bronze skin, mottled with scars and freckles, crowned by worried green eyes. He bites his lip and paradoxically, she relaxes. Tina realizes this is no different than their tentative first encounters, and she draws confidence from the evidence of his anxiety.

Reinvigorated, she moves up his body to kiss him and settles herself on his stomach. Newt maneuvers her so her upper half hovers over him, and she wriggles encouragingly when he simply _looks_ at her, eyes hazy and half-lidded. He hugs her close and licks the strip of skin between her breasts, before wrapping his teeth around a nipple and biting down. While his mouth is occupied, his hands drift down her back and over the swell of her hips to cup her behind, kneading gently. Tina moans and begins a slow undulation against him, seeking friction.

A fissure of warmth pulses through Tina as he suckles and teases, and increases when he sits up to cup her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples between his fingers. There's something about the angle: he is rumpled and lazy-eyed beneath her, smiling faintly and gleaming in the low light. He improves himself when he looks at her keenly and says with conviction: "Tina, you are _magnificent_ ," and suddenly she _aches_ so she grinds herself into the pane of his stomach, breath caught in her throat.

He huffs at her sudden desperation and moves to flip them, pressing her into the fine comforter and claiming her mouth. She feels him shift down there and experiences a moment of breathless panic, but he presses her thighs together and runs soothing palms down her legs. "Not yet, Tina," he reassures her, and she can feel him smiling against her mouth. "We mustn't do anything until the cauldron has been _prepared_ , wouldn't you agree?"

Tina laughs at the quip and the tension is broken. It's an old joke between them ("Witches have cauldrons Tina, and wizards—wizards have wands!") and it's welcome here in this space between them. He's still smiling as his hands skate over her sides and across her stomach, further calming her nerves, and when his mouth finds her ear and teases it, she moans and rakes her nails across his back.

He takes his time, working her neck and ear until she gasps and clutches at him before descending the column of her throat. He breathes damp halos across her chest and further down, causing goosebumps to erupt across her body. His tongue dips into her navel before he presses open-mouthed kisses to the expanse of flesh below. His hands frame her lower belly for a moment, and she knows what he's thinking—she feels the same primeval tug. Then her Newt moves lower, and thinking in any fashion becomes a real challenge.

Her kisses the dark thatch of hair at the juncture of her thighs before moving in to sample the crease where her leg meets her body. He leaves love-bites on her inner thighs and trails a warm tongue over her knees, making her whine and jerk and pant in anticipation. By the time he gets around to where she wants him most, her fingers are clenching the blanket and her breath comes in short bursts.

"So eager," he says against her skin, but she can hear a certain masculine pride in it. Her Newt isn't prone to teasing and she vibrates with frustration, so he lifts a hand to drape over her. He makes a sound when he covers her entirely, and she can feel him whispering into her skin. Before she can focus on the shape of his mouth to decipher his words, Newt's fingers part her outer lips and trace them. Tina encourages him by wrapping a leg around his shoulders and _purring_ happily.

His fingers make a senseless pattern, trailing through silky fluid until he finds the bud hidden beneath her mound. Newt pinches it between two fingers and rubs, and Tina gasps at the sudden jolt of pleasure. His other hand moves lower and a finger sinks into her, sliding through her folds. She mewls and rolls her hip, clenching around him to increase the friction. He hisses as he sinks his teeth into the tendon of her inner thigh and adds another finger.

Newt waits until her breathing evens out before finding a rhythm. He dips his head to bestow the occasional nip to her thigh, her hip, her outer lips, swiping his thumb over her tingling nub. He teases until she's tense and coiled, banked head radiating from her core, before leaning in and swiping the rough velvet of his tongue over her. Tina keens at the contact and her hips roll of their own accord, swaying closer to increase friction. Groaning happily, Newt holds his tongue stiff so she can rock against it, seeking her pleasure and alleviating his aching jaw.

Tina mewls with the first intense pulse of her orgasm and Newt wraps his lips around her sensitive bud, suckling to encourage her to spill over that edge. She shudders into him until she collapses on the bed, panting. Newt swipes his tongue lazily until her hips buck away, releasing her to run wet kisses over her frame. He wipes his mouth before kissing her properly but she can still taste herself on him, musty and salty and slightly sweet.

Tina can feel his arousal against her thigh when he leans in, hot and heavy. She is still shaking with the intensity of her release when she reaches down, wrapping her fingers around his length and stroking. He allows a few moments of this before stopping her, looking away shyly. "This won't last if you keep that up," he says, so Tina nods and allows him to push her back into the pillows.

Newt settles between her parted thighs, hands stroking soothing circles against her stomach. He finds her mouth and kisses it, sucking her tongue, nibbling her lip, leaving her panting. His hand slides down to touch her still-sensitive nub, until her breath hitches and her thighs clench, desperate for contact. He raises his head and examines her face, gauging her arousal.

"Are you ready?" he asks in his softest voice, and Tina is surprised to find that she _is_ ; she tells him so with a nod and a shaky smile. Newt exhales unsteadily as he drapes himself over her, and she can feel small tremors quaking through him. He kisses her as he arranges her into a more receptive position, draping one of her legs over his hip and pressing the other into the mattress. She feels his hands as he guides himself, and when the blunt tip nudges against her entrance, she twitches her hips in tacit invitation.

His voice shakes as he speaks, holding himself as still as possible in an attempt to ease nerves that are truly no longer an issue. "This shouldn't hurt Tina, but it may be...uncomfortable at first. I will do my best to make this enjoyable for you, but it's been a _very_ long time and I'm rather out of practice." He kisses her, loud and wet. "I will do my best, wife."

He rolls his hips forward and _that_ part of him presses against her, and oh—it is more than two fingers, or even three. Tina takes measured breaths as he rocks his hips, her natural lubrication easing the burn when he sinks into her, just the smallest bit, and pauses to allow her to adjust to the invasion. When she nods at his probing look, calm and ready for more, he bares his teeth and sucks in two quick breaths. Then he snaps his hips and sinks in, all at once, until there's no barrier between them.

Tina catalogs the initial stretch and burn, and with a slight twinge, her maidenhead ruptures to allow him to pass. Tina notes that she is _full_ of him and it is slightly uncomfortable, though far from unpleasant. The discomfort fades while he nuzzles his face into her hair, and her leg tightens around him when his arms lift her to his chest. He trembles as he kisses her, voice unsteady when he murmurs into her mouth—encouragements and apologies and stunned observations on how _good_ she is, how right. Tina hides a triumphant smirk and once she has adjusted to the feel of him, twitches her hips just to hear his breathing stutter.

Newt presses his forehead into her chest as he withdraws partially, hesitates a moment, and sinks back in. There's a responding _pressure_ when he repeats the gesture, pulling out further on each subsequent attempt, and they sigh in blissful unison when he finds and sets their rhythm, rolling his hips against her as waves lap at the shore. Newt props himself on his forearms so he can kiss her, eyes wide and adoring. His mouth curves into a smile when Tina's head falls back and small sighs spill out, his steady pace stroking the flame within until it pools and flows through her core, tense and coiled and waiting.

"Tina, you've set me on _fire_ ," he breathes as he presses his hand to her racing heart, the sheer _wonder_ in his voice causing her to cry out. He seals his mouth against hers, swallowing her moans and adding a few of his own. His small, secret smile is a constant presence, and when she feels capable of movement she lifts her head and matches it, awed by this man and the pleasure they create between them.

Newt is wild and fae above her as she grips his hair, his arms, anything she can use to anchor herself to his mysteries. His hips maintain their steady beat when he shifts to clasp her hand and squeeze their palms together. He kisses her again, deeply enough that she can feel his gasps. His sounds are joyous as he touches and brushes and kisses her, setting every nerve alight.

They surge and retreat while something primal coils around them, drawing them close and searing their blood. Her leg tightens around his waist and in response, he shifts, angling her hips so his slide is longer and she can feel every inch of it. " _Newt_ ," she manages after a time, a warning and a plea, and he nods desperately. His fingers go to where he moves in her and brush against her most sensitive spot, pushing her toward the verge.

"Let it happen, Tina," he chokes, and she closes her eyes to focus on the tension within. "Let me— _ah_!" He cries out as she tightens around him, suddenly taut as a bowstring and vibrating, and curls his body to compensate for her arching back, instinctively adjusting for what she needs. He surges into her powerfully as the friction and heat boil over, whining when her body clamps tightly around him. The tidal pull of release crashes through her, heat unfurling from her core and burning through her limbs, sending her blood rushing to the tips of her toes as they curl, fingers convulsively clutching the bedsheets.

"— _yes_ —" he grits out as his movements lose cohesion, bordering on desperate. Newt's head falls forward with a growl as he surges into her, eyes squeezed shut. She quivers and pulses, milking him with her release, and Tina can distantly feel him swelling inside her. He shudders violently when his rhythm stutters and cries out, short and sharp. His eyes open and find hers, her name tumbling from his lips as he thrusts one last time and finds his end.

His face flushes and his lips part while he pants, spilling his heat into her. Tina watches him come undone through the haze of her own release, a species of fierce pride sweeping through her as she observes. She thinks distantly that he must feel the same. Aftershocks jolt through them both while their chests heave, and he makes small, shocked sounds on every third or fourth exhale. Eventually, shaking hands help her straighten her legs, and when he leans over her, the trembling has passed and his breathing is close to normal.

Newt kisses her chastely, a stark contrast to the passion of five minutes prior. He follows each firm kiss with a smaller one, like a signature, until they've fully returned to normal. Then he smiles, and his eyes dance at her despite his damp cheeks. He cups her face with a reverent hand, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"That was worth every second of waiting. Thank you for this gift." Newt's voice is thick with emotion but steady. Tina smiles and draws him close, holding him until the tears pass. He eventually calms and withdraws himself from her carefully before collapsing at her side. He rolls to tuck her into his chest, cradling her head and shoulders. They sigh in unison—sticky with combined fluids, slick with sweat, but deeply content.

"I love you, husband," she whispers and finds that it gets easier to say every time.

"I love you too, wife," he responds with a cheeky grin and drops a kiss on her forehead.


End file.
